


Letting Go (Of Myself)

by ananhilation



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Awkward Kissing, Boys Kissing, Coming Out, Drunken Kissing, Fluff, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 03:26:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15787974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ananhilation/pseuds/ananhilation
Summary: “So kiss me.” Adam says, like it’s simple.“I don’t know how to.” Ronan says, like this fact is the bane of his life.“It’s fairly simple, Lynch, watch and learn.” Adam swipes a thumb across Ronan’s bottom lip, and Ronan has this inordinate desire to take it into his mouth. Then Adam swoops in to lightly touch his lips to Ronan’s own, short and sweet and sickeningly gentle.guys pls read it's good and i'm v proud of it also pls leave kudos and comments if you like this thanks





	Letting Go (Of Myself)

**Author's Note:**

> loosely based off this song called outside by tender i love it alot i first heard it in this pynch edit that i found a few days ago. also i was an unmedicated mess when i wrote this but it sucks only a little bit so i'm really proud of it so pls read thx  
> i want to thank my beta @whatcaniwriteinthis she's really cool and nice and i love her but i miss her alot :((

If there was one thing Ronan Lynch was very well acquainted with, it was suffocation.

According to him, there were four recurring types of suffocation in his life.

The fourth was something he really could care less about, because it was now becoming exceedingly clear that disappointing Declan was something of a habit for Ronan. It factored in as a type of suffocation because if Declan was disappointed in Ronan, so was Matthew by extension.

Which brings us to the third form of suffocation in his life: disappointing Matthew.

When Ronan had dreamt Matthew, he’d done it so he’d have a friend, a companion. They might have been raised as brothers, but Matthew was first and foremost his oldest friend. However, the thought of not being a good older brother to Matthew broke Ronan. This was a very Declan sentiment for him to feel, but he could begrudgingly accept that to be true because, in the end, they only had each other to call family.

The second form of suffocation was a stupid fucking tie he wore to church and school, when he deigned to attend. It might seem silly to classify it so high on a list of suffocation on a surface level, but Ronan thinks the reason he hates ties was because nobody taught him to tie one. When he’d first started wearing ties to school in sixth grade, either of his parents tied it for him every morning and when his father had died, there was nobody to do it for him. He refused to learn from Declan. The tie was a monumental part of why he hated going to school.

The first, and most unbearable form of suffocation in Ronan’s life, was Adam Parrish.

Sitting pressed against him, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh, shin to shin, at this party packed with sweaty teenagers grinding against each other to shitty EDM, he took a swig of cheap, warm beer, wanting to be anywhere but here.

There was no space between Adam’s arm and his own, and he wanted to move—away—closer. He didn’t move. Instead, he just sipped his beer, vaguely paying attention to Gansey telling Tad Carruthers and Stephen Lee about how he was stung to death by bees when he was seven. He’d heard this story several times, of course. Was unpleasantly, intimately acquainted with it.

Ronan was just finishing his beer when Logan Rutherford seemingly teleported in front of him and said, “Hey, Lynch, can I ask you something real quick?”

Ronan was mildly confused. He’d talked to Logan maybe six times in all his years at Aglionby. He couldn’t imagine what he would have to ask. However, he was curious, so he nodded. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Josh Whitman throw him a thumbs-up and an encouraging smile.

“Do you think you’d ever, um, hypothetically of course,” Logan paused to sweep his hair back and wipe his palms on his jeans. “Go out with me?”

Ronan stared at him. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, but his eyes were painfully earnest. He was now viscerally aware of Adam’s eyes burning a hole into his head, but he couldn’t help but ask, “Go out with you. You mean, like a date?”

Logan’s cheeks and ears were burning red as he confirmed, “Yeah, a date. If you want it to be. If—if you want to, that is. Only if you want to, though.”

Oh.

Ronan knew, statistically, that he couldn’t be the only gay person in this town, but he’d never seen anybody out, or especially proud. In fact, the gay person he knew of was the local supermarket manager’s daughter, who’d been outed, and then moved to San Francisco to be with her girlfriend. He remembers Sargent saying, “The ‘H’ in Henrietta stands for homophobia, and the’R’ is for racism”, and just, for a split second, thinks about that Half-Japanese girl who had to go through both of those things.

Ronan also knew, objectively, that he was attractive. Tall, muscular, with dark hair and bright blue eyes, sharp eyes and sweeping cheekbones, he seemed like a stereotypical “bad boy”. And stereotypically, only girls were attracted to “bad boys”. Nerdy girls, who make the boys want to be a little less bad.

Ronan couldn’t care less what nerdy girls were attracted to. He did, however, care what nerdy _boys_ were attracted to, but that was just one nerdy boy in particular. One nerdy boy who was, unfortunately, not Logan Rutherford.

Before he could politely decline though, Logan was rambling, looking crestfallen. “It’s okay, like I said, you don’t have to, I’ve just liked you for a while and thought I might as well shoot my shot, you know, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take, but you’re probably straight anyway—”

“I’m not.” It’s the first time he’s vocalized it, and Ronan wants to kick himself in the face. It was so very unfortunate he was not a liar.

“Oh?” Logan’s face brightened a little. “So, you’re, like, dating someone then?”

Ronan almost laughed. “No. I’m just not interested. I like someone else is all.”

“Oh, okay. That’s cool. That’s cool. D—do I know them?” Logan said ‘ _them_ ’ very carefully, looking mildly stung.

“I don’t know if you know him.” Ronan said, getting up to go get himself another beer.

“Chill, chill, that’s chill.  Hey, do you want me to refill your cup?” Logan asked earnestly.

“No, it’s okay. Thanks, though.” Ronan pushed past him to the kitchen, still processing what had just happened.

_What the fuck had just happened?_

Logan Rutherford has just asked him out. Logan Rutherford, with his dark hair and green eyes, his dainty hands and polite smile, his kind eyes and small frame, had just asked him out.

But all Ronan could think was, _I’m not alone, I’m not alone, there’s others like me, I’m not alone,_ an incessant chant in his head, and he felt significantly lighter than he had two hours ago.

He was about to go back to where he was sitting when he noticed that Adam had followed him here. “So, Lynch, you have a crush. Anyone we know?”

Ronan laughed bitterly. Did Adam know himself? What a redundant question. Adam thought himself to be unknowable.

“I don’t know, Parrish.” He walked off to the living room couch, sitting between Engle and Brand.

***~*~*~***

Gansey knew to be concerned when he saw Adam holding a beer, but he wasn’t properly worried until Adam staggered to where he was sitting with Blue, obviously tipsy and uncharacteristically talkative.

“Hey. Hey Gansey. D’you know Rutherford asked Ronan out ?” Adam wedged himself between him and Blue, face flushed.

“Yes. I heard he turned him down, though.” Gansey moved over to make some space for Adam.

“He did. I was there. He said he liked someone else too. Do you guys know who?” Adam turned to Blue, then to Gansey.

Blue and Gansey shared a look over Adam’s head. Did they know who Ronan liked? They’d have to be blind to not see how Ronan looks at Adam. Ronan Lynch was many things, but he was _not_ subtle.

Finally, Blue said, “No idea, Adam.”

“It’s a boy. I know that much.” Adam sat up a little straighter. “Did you know he liked boys? D’you think he’d like me?”

Blue suddenly grinned wickedly at Gansey. _Motherfucking plot twist,_ she mouthed, and Gansey couldn’t hold back a small smile.

“Why don’t you ask him?” Gansey suggested, and Adam made a face.

“That would be offensive, I think. I like boys, but I don’t like every boy, and I don’t think Ronan does either. Wait, he already said he likes someone else.” Adam’s face fell with every sentence he said.

“Fuck this.” Adam abruptly stood up, walking off to the makeshift dance floor.

***~*~*~***

It was hours later that Adam found Ronan outside, in the backyard. He was sitting on the grass, cross legged, nursing a bottle of whiskey that seemed to still have three-fourths left. They were both more than a little tipsy; Adam giggling as he sat down next to him.

“Hey, Lynch, why’d you turn Logan down?” Adam asked, turning to fully face Ronan.

“Because, I like someone else, Parrish.” Ronan offered Adam some of his whiskey, and he hesitantly took it, desperately wanting some liquid courage.

“Who is it? Do I know him?” Adam seemed curious, looking at Ronan like he might look at one of his textbooks, but also not quite.

Ronan abruptly decided that he’d had enough of gently tip-toeing around his feelings for Adam. He’d never felt the burning need to confess to Adam before, but now he felt like he had to tell him. Rationally, he knew this was the alcohol making him do stupid things, but also, he didn’t care. Adam was wasted too. Maybe he won’t remember.

So, Ronan said, almost conversationally, “I don’t know, Adam, do you know yourself?”

For three solid seconds, all Adam could think was, _h_ _e called me Adam._

And then, his brain caught up to him, and, oh.

_Oh._

Ronan liked Adam. No, Ronan _liked_ Adam.

When Adam turned to look at Ronan, he was already looking back. Had been, for months. Except, Adam had thought maybe he was seeing what he wanted to see. It never occurred to him that Ronan might actually like him back.

Ronan noticed, not for the first time, that Adam’s eyes were a sharp, icy blue. Usually, there would be glint of hostility in them, a challenge to mock him for where he came from, but that was Ambitious Adam. This Adam, in front of him right now, was Drunk Adam, marginally more pleasant and easy-going than Ambitious Adam, which meant the glint was more than just a little dimmed. A shame, really. Ronan loved to rile Adam up. That was his version of pulling the pretty girl’s pigtails on the playground, and while he wasn’t proud of it, it was all he’d had at the time.

Except, now, he didn’t know what this meant. He knew Adam had figured out that he liked him, but he hadn’t said a word.

“I have a crush, too.” Adam starts, and Ronan’s heart sinks. Of course Adam liked somebody else. He was probably straight. But Adam continues, “He’s very cute. He’s got these muscles, and dimples, and he’s tall and broad-shouldered, and he doesn’t take any shit from me.”

Ronan’s mouth drops open. _He?_ Ronan was more than sure that Adam had been into Sargent just a few months ago. Was Adam Parrish not straight?

The inexorable chant of _I’m not alone_ resumes in Ronan’s head, but Adam’s still speaking. “—and he’s got a fancy car, and a badass tattoo, and he’s a street racer, but he’s also a farmer, which is fucking wild, right? And his eyes, they’re so intense. He’s seen some shit.” Adam then looks at him, mildly expectant.

Ronan’s world reconstructs around him. From what Adam was saying, it sounded an awful lot like he was describing him.

But, that can’t be true.

Could it?

He leans in closer to Adam, and they’re caught in a very intense stare-off. Neither of them had explicitly admitted any feelings one might’ve had for the other.

“God, Lynch, you’re so oblivious.” Adam said, and does the last thing Ronan expects him to.

Ronan is still frozen in shock as Adam’s lips meet his own. He knew he should probably kiss back. He definitely wanted to. He didn’t know how to, but he tries to do what Adam’s doing, and that’s when Adam pulls away.

“You’re not into this,” Adam sounds slightly slighted, trying to put some distance between them.

“No, I’m into. This. I just—I don’t—” Ronan uncertainly meets Adam’s eyes, icy sharp, all hint of languor and leisure gone.

Ronan swallows. “I’ve never kissed anybody before.”

“Oh.” Adam’s eyes soften a little. “Shit, I’m sorry. I should’ve asked.”

“It’s okay. I—” The words seem stuck in his throat, but somehow manages to he breathe them out in one go. “Iwanttokissyou.”

Adam had been taking a swig from the whiskey and choked. He valiantly swallows it down, and Ronan sees his Adam’s apple- Adam’s Adam’s apple, his brain unhelpfully supplies, like it was some kind of hilarious joke- move, and Ronan’s mouth is dry. He feels completely boneless, and not just because of the liquor in his system either.

“So kiss me.” Adam says, like it’s simple.

“I don’t know _how_ to.” Ronan says, like this fact is the bane of his life.

“It’s fairly simple, Lynch, watch and learn.” Adam swipes a thumb across Ronan’s bottom lip, and Ronan has this inordinate desire to take it into his mouth. Then Adam swoops in to lightly touch his lips to Ronan’s own, short and sweet and sickeningly gentle.

Ronan is more prepared this time, so he hesitantly kisses Adam back, starting slow and dulcet, gradually progressing to something a little more intense. His head felt blissfully clear, and his entire body was tingling from the closeness of Adam’s, but he could still acutely feel the loss of Adam’s hands since he’d withdrawn them.

“Parrish,” his voice is thin and raspy, “Put your fucking hands on me.”

So Adam does.

They kissed, and they kissed, and they _kissed,_ until they were both flushed and breathless. Adam had somehow climbed into Ronan’s lap in the middle of this, and more often than not, Adam would grind down on him and Ronan would desperately try not to whimper. And then, he pulls back, studying Ronan’s face closely.

“You’re so pale,” Adam observes. “I bet you’d bruise real good.”

And then Adam puts that infernal mouth on his neck.

Ronan’s pulse points are very sensitive, and Adam knows this from several tickle fights, but this was just cruel, Adam moving on him and giving him what felt like a very dark hickey, while Ronan just sat there, trying not to pass out from the sheer exhilaration of this.

Eventually, Adam pulled back and looked at Ronan’s neck with a self-satisfied smile. He then climbed out of Ronan’s lap and sat next to him, putting his head on his shoulder. It could’ve been anywhere from 5 minutes to 5 hours that they sat there, the backs of their hands brushing against each other every few seconds.

“I want to hold your hand.” Ronan says, a weighted confession.

“So hold it.” Adam says, and yawns as their fingers twine together.

***~*~*~***

 

 

 

 

Eventually, someone had called the police on Cheng, because it had been his party, and Ronan was too drunk to drive back to Monmouth, so when he couldn't find Gansey, he intimidated Cheng Two and Lee-Squared into giving up their room for the night. He dragged a half-asleep Adam into the room, and threw him on the bed, before draping a heavy quilt over him. He then lay down on the unnecessarily large couch that took up most of the rest of the space in the room. He knew it'd been a bad idea to go to a party on Saturday night, especially when he had church the next morning, but the prospect of getting wasted for free had been too strong to resist. He fell asleep, utterly exhausted from the rush of adrenaline, and mercifully, did not dream. 

Sometime at the asscrack of dawn, Adam shook him awake, muttering something about _shift_ and  _can't be late_  and _please, Ronan, wake up, goddammit_ , so Ronan had no choice but to get his shit together in two seconds and rush out of Litchfield House as quietly as possible, like a motherfucking thief. A small part of him was happy that Adam trusted him enough to ask for his help, but he was still very annoyed about being woken up so early. He was standing next to the driver seat of his BMW when he realized that he didn't have his keys, but then Adam was hurrying after him and throwing something his way and-- okay, he had his car keys. He quickly got in the driver's seat and when Adam pointedly looked at him as he was wearing his seatbelt, Ronan sighed resignedly and wore his own as well. So much for hopefully dying on the way.

The awkward silence was thick with tension and their conversation was stilted at best as Ronan had asked, "Where to?" and Adam had just quietly answered, "Boyd's", before rolling down his window as Ronan turned on his shitty EDM. It was peaceful for a while, until Adam turned to look at him and started, "Listen, Ronan--" and Ronan just turned up the music. Adam tried not to make his hurt obvious and looked away, and Ronan quietly breathed a sigh of relief. He was sure that Adam remembered now, but he absolutely wasn't ready to talk about last night. The thought alone had him panicking. When Adam got out of the car at Boyd's, he murmurs a "Thanks" and Ronan just nods before flooring it to Monmouth. In 20 minutes, he was dressed and at church, awkwardly hugging Declan and giving Matthew a fist bump as they sat down at their customary pew. 

He tried to pay attention, he really did, but Ronan's mind kept wandering to suffocation. This stupid fucking that he's subjected himself to, the suffocating silence in the car, Adam's kisses, both sweet and hot, as suffocating as each other, and. Just Adam Parrish, in general. The collar of his charcoal gray shirt kept brushing up against where Adam had done his best to leave a mark and every time he let himself zone out a bit, he was transported back to the memory of last night. He felt like such a mess. When Declan and Matthew asked him to lunch, he politely declined, not bothering to come up with an excuse of any sort. He then drove back to Monmouth, and when he noticed the car he was parking next to, his heart jumped up to his throat. 

It was the shitbox. Adam's Hondayota was here, which meant Adam was here, and if Adam was here, then Ronan decidedly needed to be _not_ here. _Anywhere_  but here. Of course, before he could pull out of the car park, Noah materialized outside the driver's window. He motioned for Ronan to get out and said, "Ronan, your bird has been cawing all day long, please go check on her. The noise has been killing me." Ronan closed his eyes for a few seconds. If Chainsaw was making noise, she was probably hungry. And a hungry Chainsaw was an annoying Chainsaw, and Ronan did not have the patience for that today.

"Fuck off, Czerny, you aren't even alive." Ronan retorted as he made his way upstairs. Sure enough, Adam was spread out on the couch and Gansey was on the floor, glueing together cereal boxes for his miniature Henrietta.

"Hello, Ronan. Where did you go last night ?" Gansey asked, as soon as he was in his line of vision.

"Spent the night, _Dad_." Ronan replied, before walking into his room and kicking it shut behind him. Chainsaw was asleep, a half eaten bowl of seeds on front of her, and a small bowl of water as well. Ronan mentally made a note to throw Noah out the window again. 

He walked back outside, taking off his suit jacket and loosening his tie, before proceeding to undo some of the buttons on his shirt. He motioned for Adam to move and plopped himself down on the couch next to him as Gansey wiped his wireframes on a dirty sock.  When he turned around to talk to Ronan, his eyes caught on something at his collar and nearly fell out their sockets. "Ronan," he said, calmly, "What is that on your neck?"

Time seemed to freeze. Gansey was looking at him patiently, and Ronan could just feel Adam's smugness radiating off of him in waves. Noah had somehow appeared and was grinning knowingly. Everybody was expectantly looking at him, and he thought of the first excuse that came to mind. "I fell." The lie was bitter on his tongue, and it was obviously not good enough for Gansey, who sounded disbelievingly unsettled as he asked, "On your neck? You fell on your neck?"

"Yes, Gansey, I fell on my neck." Ronan affirms shiftily, his entire body now violently aware of Adam's gaze piercing through the dishonesty. It was, at the very least, uncomfortable, and at it's very worst, unbearable.

The silence was overwhelming. Gansey couldn't discern whether he was joking, and seeing an opportunity, Ronan was sprinting to his room in record time, and just as he's turning the knob to the door, Adam just _had to_ ask, "Since when do you lie, Ronan?"

There were very few instances where Ronan had begged for the earth to swallow him whole, but this was definitely one of them. Somehow, he managed to glare at Adam, trying to intimidate him into playing along, but he didn't seem to budge. Ronan was not used to people not being intimidated by him. He could intimidate a piece of plywood into doing what he wanted. But here was Adam motherfucking Parrish, cool as you please, looking at him expectantly for an answer.

Gansey seemed to have just caught on that something was seriously wrong, and it was apparent in the way that he asked, "Guys, what's happening?"

Ronan doesn't answer. Instead , he stormed back into his room, and slams the door loud enough to wake Chainsaw, who squawks loudly, and then falls back asleep. Not a second later, Adam knocks and, before he could ask him to go away, says, "I'm coming in."

"What do you want?" Ronan asks, refusing to look him in the eye.

Adam's quiet for a few minutes. Then he comes and sits next to Ronan and says, "You, Ronan. Just you." 

That makes Ronan look at him, and Adam's already looking back. Of course. 

He leans in a little, and Ronan knows that they're going to kiss, and while it's not that he doesn't want that, he doesn't want this to be meaningless. So, he says, "Stop."

Adam immediately puts some distance between them. "What is it?"

"I don't--" Ronan swallows. "I don't do casual, Parrish. If  you want me, then you're in this for the long haul. If you don't want that, then stop fucking with my head and don't try to touch me again." It seems harsh, he supposes, but Ronan has to protect himself. He loved very few people, and they all had the potential to break him. 

"Ronan, you could never just be _casual_ to me." Adam says, his cheeks flushing and eyes determined. "I've liked you for _so_ long. I don't do casual either."

Ronan seemed to be struck dumb. "Good." is all he says, before he stares straight ahead.

"Yeah." Adam says, and drops his gaze to the floor.

They don't say anything after that until the silence becomes too suffocating to bear. Its only then that Adam thinks to ask, "Do you, maybe, want to be my boyfriend?"

Ronan startles a little, and then snorts. "Sure, Parrish, I'll be your boyfriend."

"So can I kiss you now?"

Ronan doesn't answer. Instead, he gently presses his lips to Adam's, sighing contentedly as they melt into each other.

 

As Adam kisses the breath out of him, Ronan thinks that while Adam is still his first cause of suffocation, he couldn't be happier about it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on tumblr i'm rly funny and i shitpost a lot


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